A Cold Night
by PJTL156
Summary: It's a cold night at Germany's house. He can't seem to stop thinking, and it's mostly about Italy. He turns and a certain brunette is lying next to him. When the sleeping Italy's hand meets Germany's arm he feels a spark. What will he do? Strong T, or M.


**This one is actually the first Hetalia fic I started, but I got stuck somewhere in the middle and didn't go back to it until a couple days ago. It seems alright to me, but I'm the writer, of course. If it seems a little choppy or different, that's why, and I apologize.**

**On a different note, this one is full of stuff. It wasn't suppose to be this long, but it turned out that way. I think it works well, though. Hopefully. CX (BTW, it's a strong T, possibly light M) Please read, hope you enjoy it, and I'd love a review. You'll get an invisible cookie. ;)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, but if I did, I wouldn't be here right now, that's for sure. ;D**

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><p><span>A Cold Night<span>

It's a cold night at Germany's house. Winter is on its way so the temperature outside is freezing. Inside it's not much better. _That verdammt furnace, of course it had to stop working! Just mein luck. Can't I get a break around here? I'm surrounded by dummkopfs. I can't do _everything_,_ Germany thinks to himself. The furnace had gone out right before he went to bed, but he was too tired to fix it. It had been a long day of "training," if you could even call it that. Japan wasn't a very good soldier, but Italy was horrible. The only weapon he knew how to use properly was a stick, and that was always attached to a white flag. Italy was the lamest excuse for a country he had ever seen. Besides France. The only time he could get Italy to run was to threaten him with starvation. Apparently for an Italian that's the worst thing in the world. It had actually worked a few times. Of course Japan wasn't much better, but he did try. He was rather weak but he had a fighting spirit in him. Somehow Italy never acquired that trait, even though his Grandfather was the great Rome.

Germany lies in bed and looks at the ceiling. His mind wonders while trying to fall asleep. All of his failures with the Axis Powers run though his mind, but one in particular still leaves him in awe. _There was the time he threw the pin and not the grenade._ _What was he even thinking? _He sighs to himself. For some reason his bed didn't seem very comfortable, so he lies on his left side facing the wall.

"He wasn't thinking, that's the problem. It's _always_ the problem. Austria was right. If he hadn't asked me to be his friend I never would have let him into this alliance." Germany says this to himself. He isn't ungrateful to Italy; it is actually quite the opposite. If it weren't for him the only friend he would ever have is a stick.

Germany's starting to get warmer under the covers. It's still frigid outside the bed, but under the covers it was actually pretty toasty. It reminded him of sitting by the fire with Italy and Japan. Though he wouldn't admit it those times together were the best in his entire life. For once he had other countries that actually cared about him. Well, at least Italy did, Japan he wasn't so sure about. _That Japan sure is a strange fellow. He shows even less emotion than Ich. Italy on the other hand has pledged his undying support to me, und he never holds back his emotions. If I didn't know better I would think he's a girl. _His mind flashes to Italy with a dress and longer hair. He can't help but smirk at the image. _It's sad, but somehow it fits him._

He lets his mind drift back to the time he met Italy. Why he had chosen a tomato box to hide in Germany would never know. _Just one of his little quirks, I guess. The poor boy had been scared out of his mind. Why would he think I'd hurt him? He was as harmless as a puppy. Still is, sadly…_

He continues to think about their first meeting: Italy weeping out of fear and Germany awestruck that the shivering, blathering mess of a man could be a descendant of the great Rome; later on, Italy not wanting to leave Germany's house because he liked it there; the kind, yet not too flattering song he had made especially for Germany's ears; Italy promising to be his ally and friend, which had caught the strong man off guard; the wonderful feeling he got with their arms draped over each other's shoulders as they walked in the warm sun together. As Germany thinks of these things he can't help but smile. _Somehow that feeling still stays today, though not always. Even so, I guess you are a good friend, Italy. When our friendship started out you warned me about yourself and I did the same to you. We both knew this wouldn't be easy, but I guess it's not that bad. At least I know how you feel about me. You might betray me as an ally, but not as a friend. Of that I'm sure. _He thinks this, but doubts he'll ever admit these feelings to Italy.

The blonde feels tired, but isn't comfortable yet again.

"I need to go to sleep." He rolls from his left side to his right, then feels something on the other side of him. It's warm and soft. _What the…?_ He looks at the sleeping figure next to him.

"Italy? What are you doing in mein bed?" _Again. _ He awaits a response but realizes it's futile. You can't expect to wake a sleeping Italian. Instead he pushes the brunette further away from himself, since he was only a few inches away. Now they're facing each other, but there's a couple foot gap. Of course Italy doesn't awaken from the movement. Instead he smiles, makes an unrecognizable noise, and grabs Germany's arm. All of this he does in a deep slumber.

Germany gasps as a tingling feeling shoots from his arm and spreads to the rest of his body. He wasn't expecting such a strong reaction to the other man's touch. He's instantly confused. _What was that? I've never had that happen before._ His next reaction also confuses him. Instead of pushing Italy's hand away he leaves it there. _What is wrong with me? Why didn't I push him away?_ He rubs his forehead with his free hand and tries to understand what just happened, though he really doesn't want to. So, instead of thinking about it further, he rests his hand on Italy's arm and tries to shut his mind off. Life had always been easier for Germany when he ignored his true feelings.

The Aryan man sighs. He gives up trying to understand himself and starts to slip into unconsciousness, but not fully. Different occasions seem to drift through his head. Again he thinks of his first encounter with Italy. The boy had, in the middle of his breathless plea for life, claimed that he was a virgin. Whenever he thought of this remark he was puzzled by it. The Italian was known for flirting with the ladies so Italy being a virgin seemed farfetched. _Then again what woman would want to have sex with such a feminine male? Maybe he's actually bisexual. Or gay. That would make a lot more sense. _The time that Italy practically begged him for a kiss popped into his mind. After the pitiful plea on Italy's part he finally gave in. After he kissed his one cheek he remembered thinking, while his face went past Italy's lips, how much he wanted to brush up against them. He had pushed the feeling away only to kiss the other cheek lightly.

As Germany thought of this his own cheeks turned a deep pink. V_erdammt, why do I keep thinking about him that way? _He opens his eyes to look at the sleeping man next to him. Somehow Italy had now gotten back to the same place he was before Germany had pushed him away. He can't help but smile at the slightly snoring Italian laying by his side. A feeling he had never gotten from anyone else before surges through his arteries. Fire seems to radiate from his body and turn into something that confuses him even further. Lust. He has always thought of himself as a straight man, but now he isn't so sure. Rome's words play through his head.

"_So tell me what kind of a man does not have a woman in the bedroom with him every night? When I was-a your age I had a plethora of-a lovely ladies around me. Oh, are you not into girls? Come on-a now, don't be so sensitive. No one here's a judge. There's a-nothing wrong with playing for another team, and everyone likes to experiment a little, except me of course." _Germany thinks about what Rome had said. _Maybe Rome was right. I didn't want to admit to it at the time, but it might be true. Am I 'playing for another team' and didn't even realize it?_ _Oh, this is so confusing. _He releases his hand from Italy without a thought. He puts his palm on his head and sighs deeply. A million emotions are going through him at once.  
>Italy starts to stir again. This time he turns on his side; facing the same way Germany is. He mumbles something then his arm flies behind him and hits Germany's waist.<p>

"Uff!" Germany lets out a small shocked cry. It didn't really hurt, but he wasn't expecting it. He says a small German curse under his breath. It's not until then that he realizes Italy's hand is still resting on his upper waist. Without another thought he grabs Italy's hand and places it in a more appropriate place: on Italy's side of the bed. He does this gingerly, though. Not because he's afraid to wake the brunette, but because he knows he has to be gentle around him. _His fragility is almost feminine._ _Maybe that's why I love him?_ Germany's eyes get humongous at the blunt, unexpected thought. Usually tan cheeks burn red. Even his mind somehow stutters. _D-did I just think that? _All his life Germany had never felt something as strong as love. Apparently until Italy came stumbling along.

The truthful words ring through his mind. He freezes in complete horror. For some reason his hand is still holding Italy's arm. His body is now pressed up against him. His _whole _body. The Arian's face now turns almost purple. _Oh no, this is_ sehr_ embarrassing. I really hope he doesn't wake up. _Being Italy, he doesn't. Instead he murmurs something else that sounds like "pasta." Germany breathes a sigh of relief. Thinking that Italy probably won't wake up for a few more hours, he decides to take a chance and wrap his arms around him tightly. He can smell the slight sent of tomatoes and basil, along with other spices he doesn't know. It's Italy's unique scent. _Yum... _ He doesn't just mean the scent of food. Germany feels like smacking himself. _Nein. Don't be weird. You're turning into France._ Deep inside his mind he thinks, _you can't deny it. You want him. Even your body gives you away._ Germany gasps. He's creeping himself out. _Nein! Halt! _Germany yells at himself internally, then realizes how stupid he's being. He's arguing with himself.

"Dummkopf! I need to go to sleep before I lose my mind completely," he tells himself quietly. He tightens his grip on his bedmate, then places his head by Italy's neck. For some reason his scent was stronger there, which made Germany relax a little. He ignores the rush of emotions this time along with the nagging, impure thought. Within a few minutes Germany is drifting into a world of supreme bliss. It doesn't last very long.

XXOXX

Italy was happily dreaming of making pasta. It wasn't the food itself that made him smile in his sleep, but the person he was making it with. Germany. In the dream Italy was making Bucatini with Pancetta, and Germany was helping him while wearing an apron. For once he wasn't afraid to make a little mess, and he was even smiling. Italy was explaining what to do, and Germany was doing it without hesitation. Even in the dream Italy could barely believe it. _I wish he'd do this all the time._

"Italy, is this right?" a now scowling Germany asks while looking at the uneven pasta.

"Yeah, it'll work. Thanks Germany."

"You're welcome, und danke," he says with a twisted smile. Italy returns a sweeter one, but he's puzzled.

"Ve? Why are you thanking me?"

"You don't know?"

"Know what?" At this point Italy's starting to get agitated and slightly freaked out. Then he feels someone breathing on his neck. He whips around only to see Germany. "What's going on?"

"If you wake up you'll know why I'm thanking you," Germany says with a nasty smirk. He walks closer to Italy. Now he his face looks suggestive. Italy gulps.

"Y-you're scaring me." _Oh my God, what is he going to do to me?_

"Wake up, Italy," Germany growls.

With a start he does. He lays there for a few seconds catching his breathe. _It was a dream. It was just a dream. _Then he feels the warm breath on his neck and stops breathing himself. _Oh, no. It's not a dream?_ He feels something else. _Is-is that what I think it is?_ He seems to answer himself. _It is._

"Ahh!" Italy screams as he springs out of bed. In an instant Germany's awake and sitting straight up.

"Was? What's going on? Italy?" The frightened Italian doesn't say a word. Between the dream and the closeness of a certain body part Italy is confused and creeped out. This type of thing has never happened to him before.

"Italy?" All he can do is stand by the bed with a horrified look directed towards Germany's lower region. Embarrassment hits him when he realizes why Italy shot out of the bed.

"Uh, Italy, I…" he pauses. He wants to lie and say it was just a natural reaction he didn't know was happening, but his heart and mouth take over. "I'm sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was scare you or make you feel uncomfortable. I had no right. I'm so sorry." Warm tears come. He turns his head in shame and gulps them away. There was nothing he hated more than looking weak, but he couldn't help it. He had just poured his heart out from utter embarrassment and could lose a friend. His only friend. _How could I be so stupid?_

Italy still felt like a concubine, but saw how miserable Germany felt. _Good job. I made Germany, of all people, cry. He was only snuggling with me. Just because I had a bad dream doesn't mean Germany had bad intentions._

"I'm sorry too." Germany looks up dumbfounded. Several tears had streaked down his face, but he tries to hide it. _Why does he think he always has to be strong in front of me? I wish he would trust me enough to be vulnerable like I am to him._

"What? Why are you sorry?"

"I overreacted. I had a weird dream and when I woke up you were breathing on my neck. It scared me. Then I felt… something else." He says this then fixes the covers he messed up and gets under them. Germany looks somewhat uncomfortable having him be so close again, but also relieved. "I'm not mad," he adds.

"Gut, I'm glad you don't hate me," Germany sighs while relaxing a little more. Italy smiles wide.

"I could never hate you, Germany. I love you," Italy says cheerily while hugging Germany's neck. He doesn't know what else to do, so he hugs back.

"Uh, I love you too." The truthful words ring for a moment. They both pause.

"You do?" Italy says while pulling back; his look full of anticipation.

"Ja, I do. Always have." A huge smile slides onto Germany. _I admitted it. Weird. That wasn't that hard. This feels… gut. _

"Yay! I'm so glad!" the brunette cheers while going for another hug. This time it's a lot more forceful and causes Germany to fall onto his back with an "Umph," and Italy to fall on him. Germany can't help but laugh at the clumsy man.

"Are you a little excited?" Germany says innocently regarding the forceful hug. There's a slight pause.

"Sì, can't you tell?" Italy says lustfully. He's not talking about the hug. Now the tables are turned. Germany's eyes get wide.

"Ja, I can," is the only thing he can come up with. His mind is distracted at the moment. He automatically smiles the same smile.

"What do you want to do?" The pair of golden eyes sparkle.

"Well, from what I feel, the same thing you want," Germany says with a wink.

"I was hoping you'd say that." Italy smiles and goes for a hungry kiss. A jolt of ecstasy surges between them. Before long Italy is running his hands over Germany, searching his body. Germany's surprised from the forcefulness Italy's exhibiting, but not in a bad way. Actually, he likes it very much. They pull away from the kiss only to go for another one. After a few more lustful kisses and caresses a slightly breathless Germany decides to speak.

"Do you want to go further?" _If he says no I don't know what I'm going to do._

"Yes," Italy says with want. _How could he even ask that? Of course I do._

"All the way?" Instead of answering with his mouth he answers with his hand, which rests upon an intimate area. Germany gulps back a moan.

"I'll take that as a yes," he somehow manages.

They proceed to undress each other and start their first union. It's a new experience for them both, and they love it. The intimate contact sends delightful shivers over their naked bodies. It's not too long before the building passion explodes. Ecstasy would be an understatement. After quite a long time they lie breathless next to each other. Italy is no longer as innocent as he was an hour earlier. And, it no longer feels cold in their room.

"How does it feel to not be a virgin anymore?" Germany asks.

"Good," Italy responds while looking up at his new partner with a smile. There's a silence before Italy asks Germany something he's been wondering. "Have you ever done it with a man before?"

"Nein, only you." Italy's pleased by this.

"How many women have you slept with?"

"Why do you ask?" Germany asks, reverting his gaze, and slightly uncomfortably.

"I was just wondering."

"Well, actually, I haven't. Ever." Italy's confused by this. He cocks his head.

"Wait, then does that mean…?"

"Ja, it does." Germany doesn't want to say it, so Italy does.

"We took each other's virginity?"

"Ja, we did."

"Why didn't you tell me you were a virgin, too?" Italy says agitated.

"It's embarrassing. I've never told anyone. If Prussia or someone else had found out they'd mock me. They would never let me live it down."

"Then you could have just hurt them," Italy says point-blank. It makes Germany produce a small laugh.

"You're right," he says. There's a slight pause. "Danke."

"For what?" Italy says almost afraid to ask. _This seems somewhat familiar. If I wake up and this was all a dream I'm going to cry._

"For always making me feel better, und making me a better country… Also for making me a man." Germany's sincere words sound like heavenly music to Italy's ears. They might not sound all that sweet to someone else, but to Italy this is a complement. Germany is opening up to him. _Now I _really _hope that this is not a dream._

"I feel the same way, Germany," Italy says while snuggling into Germany's chest. He can barely hold back his excitement. "You're my favorite country." Italy's sweet words puzzle him. _They seem so familiar, but how?_

"Ja, you are mein favorite, too, Italy," Germany says while slightly rattled.

"Ve…" Italy mumbles while quickly falling into an exhausted sleep. Germany doesn't have that option. A vision of a young country wearing a white dress enters his mind. In the distance he hears a familiar voice say, "_Italy…_" and the person turns. The wind is knocked out of him when he realizes the young country was his Italy. _Was? I didn't know Italy when he was a boy… did I? _There were a lot of things that Germany didn't remember about his past, but he was sure he would have remembered Italy being in it. _Wouldn't I?_

The light blue eyes glance down at the blissfully sleeping Italy. Germany holds him closer, and in doing so can feel his heartbeat. He's glad to see Italy smiling against him. A smile comes to his own face as he thinks about what had happened today. _Everything is almost perfect. I don't remember ever being this happy in mein life_. His day might have seemed bad earlier, but it didn't matter now. Training would continue, he would fix the furnace, and they could continue their lives. It wouldn't quite be the same, but that was perfectly fine with him.

He can faintly hear the Italian say, "Germany," and let out a happy sigh. Germany's smile gets wider. _He's dreaming about me. I wonder what we're doing?_ As it turns out Italy was dreaming about almost the same thing Germany had been thinking moments prior.

Germany closes his eyes, but then he hears a name he hasn't heard in a very long time. "Holy Rome…" Germany gasps and feels like he's hit in the head. He was right. It never would be the same again, but it wasn't only because of their union. Everything comes flooding back to him. It all becomes clear in that instant. His grip stays gentle, but gets stronger like he never wants to let go of the sleeping figure. The memories like waves of an ocean going through his head. The most important figure in those thoughts was the young Italy. His first love. His only love. Germany kisses Italy's head with warm tears spiraling down his cheeks.

"Oh, Italy..." _I remember…_

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><p><strong>So...? I hope you liked reading this one as much as I liked writing it. I love both of these guys sehr, sehr much. :) If you wonder why I write mostly from Germany's POV it's because I'm a lot like him and it's a little easier for me. If you don't think he should be as emotional as I portray him it's only because I know what it's like to be like Germany, so I feel his pain and happiness, and that he does have feelings, he's just afraid to show them. :) And for Italy, I don't like portraying him as a total idiotspace cadet. He's not as dumb as he acts. ;) Well, if you review I'd appreciate it... und you get an invisible cyber cookie. ;) Just sayin'. XD**


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